


Bait

by ibreathethroughwords



Series: Moments [1]
Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars: Rebels
Genre: Found Family, Gen, Pre-Slash
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-03
Updated: 2020-01-03
Packaged: 2021-02-27 14:07:06
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 973
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22098394
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ibreathethroughwords/pseuds/ibreathethroughwords
Summary: Before them was a boy, quite frightened and unsure, in need of reassurance.
Relationships: Ezra Bridger & Gilad Pellaeon, Ezra Bridger & Thrawn | Mitth'raw'nuruodo, Gilad Pellaeon & Thrawn | Mitth’raw’nuruodo
Series: Moments [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1590589
Comments: 7
Kudos: 57





	Bait

**Author's Note:**

> Takes place some indeterminate time before [Here](https://archiveofourown.org/works/21364891).

“I want to say, one more time, that I really don’t agree with this plan.” The Jedi leaned against the wall of Thrawn’s office, near to the door, and glowered. His posture was perfectly defensive: arms folded over his chest, one leg brought up closer to his torso by the foot resting against the wall. A look of dissension had settled on his face with a severely turned down mouth and narrow eyes.

“Your objection has been noted,” Thrawn replied, leaning back in his seat as he studied Bridger with a mild look on his face. “And discarded. We have been over every concern numerous times. I am satisfied that the risks are minimal.”

And, therefore, everyone else should be satisfied as well. The third person in the room rolled his eyes where his commander couldn’t see it at the haughtiness of the implication. Thrawn had no qualms about accepting feedback from his subordinates — and, in Bridger’s case those people he considered to be his subordinates — but there was such a thing as pushing too far. Pellaeon had to wonder when Thrawn’s pride would cross that line. Surely one day the boy would have enough and who knew what would happen to them all then.

Never, in his long career, had he had such a stubborn (and seemingly foolhardy) commanding officer. Thrawn made leaps of logic he almost never entirely explained, he risked much (and, infuriatingly, it always turned out that he hadn’t really risked anything at all) for apparently little gain (or so it always appeared at first), was the most miserly person Pellaeon had ever met when it came to information, and the bastard was never smug about any of it. Instead, cool politeness was the order of the day, failing to mask his abundant amount of self-confidence, courtesy extended to nearly every being they had come across so far in this little romp across the Unknown Regions.

Wistfully, he wondered what would have happened if he’d sided with Savit and just fired on the man. 

It was too late for wishful thinking: the time for that decision had long-since passed. He would play the bait to ensnare their current target, and then the deathtroopers would dispose of the corpse after interrogating the prisoner. All Pellaeon had to do was exist. Plans rarely worked out to be more simple and effective than that, in his experience. Though perhaps he was doing Thrawn a disservice in calling it “simple.” The chances of the plan being fully explained to either himself or Bridger was slim. ‘Simple’ was not his commander’s style. There was no chance it was as simple as it sounded and they all knew it.

Bridger was unhappy, and Pellaeon felt he could understand why. 

“You can’t know that,” the boy was saying when he tuned back in to the argument. “It’s a bad idea.”

“Have you sensed any unrest on the planet?” Thrawn asked with all the patience of a practiced parent handling a recalcitrant teenager. Though he was dealing with the Rebel, his eyes kept shifting to Pellaeon. Was that worry?

There was a huff from the teenager. “No,” he grumbled, and ducked his head down to avoid their eyes. “But it’s still too dangerous.”

Thrawn caught Pellaeon’s eye and gave Bridger a meaningful look. It was a silent plea for help managing the child. For all that Thrawn exuded patience and a soothing aura in handling Bridger’s upset over this, it seemed even his nerves were wearing thin. “I’ll be fine,” Pellaeon assured the teenager as he at last stepped in to assist Thrawn. “I won’t be alone. You’ll be able to hear everything.”

“You’ll be unprotected,” Bridger reminded him, about as snappish as Pellaeon had ever seen the boy.

“The deathtroopers are adequate protection,” Pellaeon responded, putting a bit of steel into his voice. “That’s enough, Ezra.”

Ezra squeezed his eyes shut, and turned his head away. “But what if they kidnap you?” he muttered, and held himself more tightly. 

Thrawn and Pellaeon shared a brief look of alarm. That had been something they’d considered in planning this operation, but Thrawn thought the chances to be so slim as to not be an issue. “They will not,” Thrawn said simply, and looked at Pellaeon as though he had any idea what to do with Bridger.

Pellaeon shrugged. He had no idea what to do with the child either.

“But what if they do?” Ezra asked again, more forcefully. His eyes opened and he stared them down. In his eyes, Pellaeon didn’t see the Jedi who kidnapped them with his irritating band of marauding Purrgil. Before them was a boy, quite frightened and unsure, in need of reassurance.

Thrawn must have seen it too. He stood and crossed the room to stand before the teenager. A long, thin hand rested on the top of Ezra’s head like a benediction as Thrawn lowered his voice in the stillness of his office.

“Should anyone harm a hair on his head, we will track them down and make them pay. I am only using our dear Captain as bait because I do not think anyone will dare attempt to take him from us. If they try, I will kill them. Is that satisfactory?” Thrawn looked down at Ezra with eyes narrowed and grim.

Pellaeon’s felt his heart skip a beat at the possessive endearment. ‘Their’ Captain? His head swam at the implication from _that_. Ezra nodded. A soft sigh escaped Pellaeon, a breath he hadn’t realized he was holding, at the capitulation. 

Pellaeon might be the bait for the operation, but as Thrawn sent the boy off to bed — now far more reassured and content with the plan — and turned a possessive gaze on his subordinate, he had to wonder who was truly the bait. And what the trap really was.

**Author's Note:**

> I think I have two more of these. Work is still insane though, and we are packing, packing, packing.


End file.
